


A Box of Lies

by Warriorgazer909



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Ahh yes tags, Angst, Coulson Lives, Evil!Peggy, Evil!Peggy is here for like two seconds, Fury is Good, Gen, HYDRA!Peggy, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), I'm probably just being cruel, Like AOU I will be ignoring any and everything happening in CW, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Iron Man 3 Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tony Angst, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony isn't known as Iron Man, Tony-centric, Yeah meet plot twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warriorgazer909/pseuds/Warriorgazer909
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There once was a boy, who lived in a box. To the boy, the box was full of magic, a wonderland only he knew of and could show to no one else.</p>
<p>To everyone else around him he was an odd factor into the equation of life, so they excluded him from it altogether.</p>
<p>This boy was named Anthony Edward Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know exactly where I'm going with this, but eh. We'll see. I can't do summaries.  
> Also, I haven't read the comics whatsoever so any information I have will come from the internet or be based from the movies. And I haven't seen AoU, so I won't be taking anything from that either.

In a corner of a room sat a small cardboard box. Nothing was printed on the box, and it wouldn’t have seemed odd, except for the flaps to close the box were spread out, and the box had no place in being in the room.  
The room was painted a dark blue, and full of things that seemed privy to taking care of a little boy. A bed, pushed in the corner, was covered with dark satin sheets and a bed cover with Captain America over it. The pillows were decorated much the same way.  
Comic books were placed neatly in a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, breaking only for two doors that led to a bathroom and a closet. Many more books took up space beyond the paper edges of the comics, books full of math and technology, seemingly too challenging for the young-aged boy that occupied this room.  
Along another wall sat many electronic pieces, tiny wires and metal parts, little tools and components. Sheets of paper were strewn across a small wooden table that sat in the middle of the room, one side adorned with a chair perfectly sized for a little child.  
Beyond that, however, the room was neat and tidy. Certainly no place for a _cardboard box_. And yet, it was there, taking up just the tiniest amount of space in the large room. If one were to lift the box edge, they would find nothing inside.

 

 

 

After all, it _was_ a box full of lies.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is a bit all over the place, but I'll let you guys decide that.

Tony jerked awake, feeling rivulets of water running down his body. He was panting, vision tunneling as he nearly dived headfirst for a panic attack, soothed just a little by JARVIS’ cool tones reporting the date, time, weather, and what he’d been working on in the past twenty-four hours.

A quick glance of his surroundings rewarded him with the familiar sight of his workshop, all clean lines and dark tones. Not hot sand and water, electricity running through his veins while he was held down, struggling to breath. Not the cold, empty grip of the stars, the blackness stealing his breath while he watches the explosion with his last breath.

Not death.

Dum-E whirrs towards him, claw opening and closing in his weird, fucked-up way of asking Tony something. Grasping for straws, Tony liked to joke with himself.

Instead of speaking, Tony leans forward and rests a hand on Dum-E’s claw. The metal is smooth and cold, refreshing after the- imagined- heat of Afghanistan, of a cave where Tony fought to live and breathe. Dum-E chirrups softly. It’s a noise Tony hasn’t heard in a while, not since before Captain fucking America was found.

Tony smiles at Dum-E, free to do as he likes. The workshop is his sanctuary, where he goes to escape the throng of people shoving cameras and microphones in his face, assuming they know every last detail of his life. They don’t, and they never will. That information was privy to exactly two people, and one of them is dead.

( _I was worried I was killing the golden goose._ )

The other is something Tony’s created.

( _You had one last golden egg to give._ )

Tony pulls away from Dum-E and turns to the screen hovering atop the desk, waiting for Tony to manipulate something on the screen, to change and recreate.

Tony thinks of Afghanistan, and winces. Maybe he shouldn’t be creating anymore. Anything else. Everyone just seems to get hurt whenever he does.

( _He tried, so hard. Iron Man, wasn’t Iron Man enough? (A new generation of weapons, with this at the heart.)_ )

There’s numbers, averages that Tony goes through. So many soldiers, so many civilians dead.

( _It wasn’t. (Put the balance of power in our hands. The right hands.)_ )

“ _Sir?_ ” JARVIS’ voice startles Tony from his thoughts. His hand is hovering in front of the blue-tinted hologram. A flick of his wrist casts it away. “Pull up the schematics for the MK IX, J.” Tony orders, running a hand through his hair. It comes away greasy, and he remembers pulling himself out from under the Roadster.

As a new screen pops up, the new suit drawn upon it, JARVIS speaks. “ _Sir, you have not eaten in over 19 hours. Miss Potts asked me to alert her when you have approached the 20 hour mark without eating._ ”

Tony sighs. “Cancel that, J. Tell Pep I’m fine. There’s a granola bar around here somewhere, right?” Dum-E whirrs, but Tony doesn’t turn to him until the bot nudges his hand, a plastic wrapper crinkling within the bot’s claw. “Good boy.” Tony praises, and Dum-E chirps happily before rolling away to join Butterfingers and You at their charging stations.

Tony takes the bar and obeys the silent command to eat, hardly tasting the bar as he makes adjustments and notes on the suit. It’s gone in a matter of minutes and Tony is focused on the suit, hands flying through the air as he creates.

❖❖❖

“ _Sir, Agent Romanov is approaching._ ” JARVIS reports. Tony pauses, letting his grip on the wire fall slack. Extracting himself from the torso of the suit takes careful attention if he doesn’t want to get caught in the loose, hanging cables and such, so Natasha’s already at the doors by the time Tony is free.

She doesn’t speak upon entering and Tony doesn’t grace her with a greeting. Ever since the Natalie-Natasha thing, their relationship is rocky, at best. Natasha lives in the tower, but she leaves him alone and Tony returns the favor, so he figures it’s not all bad. Plus Black Widow gets along with Iron Man, which isn’t bad. Kind of nice, actually.

He wonders if their relationship would be better if she knew.

“Fury’s calling.” Natasha finally speaks. Not Romanov, not Natashalie. She’s something he has to protect, just like Steve and Bruce and Clint and even Thor. They’ve already done things, they’ve repented. Tony shouldn’t be the one to drag them down, so he protects them, in the best way that he can.

Iron Man is the one injured the most often, but unless someone’s actually asked for a hit count, the others don’t know. Tony has so many aches and pains, from battles with villains that got bored, but he has to play them off.

No one can know, not this far into it. Seven years too long; Tony’s always been good at keeping secrets.

( _Tony Stark: billionaire, genius, philanthropist, playboy. (Weak, cowardly.)_ )

“Can’t he call me himself?” He doesn’t point out the silent quip behind the statement; Natasha can read that for herself. He’s still not all that good at the people thing.

“It’s a personal visit, Stark. Get your head out of your ass and get to the helicarrier.” Natasha’s voice is icy, and Tony knows he’s messed up. He doesn’t respond as she whips around and stalks out of his lab, silent and graceful as ever. Her words are the poison of the black widow; Tony’s still fighting a flinch from the venom-spit word _Stark_ , like it’s a curse Natasha never wants to say again.

Too bad for her. Tony’s going to keep them- _the Avengers_ \- safe, until the day he dies. It doesn’t matter how they treat him; he can’t have their blood on his hands too.

( _He wants you to build the missile._ )

( _I refuse._ )

❖❖❖

“Nicky! What calls me to your humble abode?” Tony greets Fury, loud and boisterous as everyone expects him. The hard glare of Fury’s remaining eye nearly makes him crack, but Tony hold strong and eventually Fury lets up.

Fury knows more than he should. Coulson, too. He tries to keep them safe.

( _Is this the first time you’ve lost a soldier?_ )

Coulson’s there. Six months after the entire fiasco Coulson came back and Clint cried. Those too-knowing eyes swept up and down Tony’s body and he left to hide in the workshop, Natasha’s disbelieving sneer following him down.

“Stark, we’ve got a mission for Iron Man.” Fury’s voice is still loud and booming, taking over the entire room without much effort.

It’s only Tony, Coulson and Fury anyway. Plus the cameras.

( _They don’t know. They don’t know. **They don’t know.**_ )

“When? He’s resting.” Tony uses excuses, like he’s supposed to. Iron Man flies anyway, no matter the circumstances. It’s exhausting but Tony can’t leave it to anyone else. It has to be him; he has to amend the blood he’s spilled.

( ** _I refuse._** )

Fury’s glare hardens and Tony has to fight to keep his breathing calm, fights to stay loose and easy and relaxed, not tense and ready to run if Fury suddenly decides those years spent listening to Howard are worth something.

“Coulson will debrief you.” Fury turns and exits, Darth Vader cape billowing behind him in the necessary melodramatic exit Fury has to make nowadays.

Coulson drops a file onto the table in the middle of the room, giving it a shove so it slides to rest in front of Tony. Curiosity wins over the petulance he has the urge to create, ingrained in him to act this way: wild, out of control, all for the press. Cameras and fans, all expecting this from him, nothing less. Tony has to be perfect for everyone.

( _Starks are made of iron._ )

A mission in Italy, infiltration to retrieve a data file from stolen property of the Italian government. The only reason the American system is getting involved is because said file was to be shipped to America, but it got lost in transition and now they need someone- _a superhero_ \- to come save the day. Specifically, Iron Man. Natasha and Clint would be better at infiltration and retrieval, but Tony’s the only one with the technical knowledge and if Tony can access the suit from New York, they’re hoping only Iron Man will have to go.

Tony almost laughs; he’s the only one with access to the suit- barring JARVIS and Rhodey, but Rhodey doesn’t know that. Pepper doesn’t need that burden, either, so Tony keeps it from her.

“Fine.” Tony forces a bored tone, giving Coulson a glance before turning and walking out of the room, file still in hand. Coulson doesn’t call after him, job finished, but he can’t help but notice the paling lines of Tony’s face, the absence of a body underneath his shirt.

Coulson, for the life of him, worries.

No one, however, does that more than one Nickolas Fury.


	3. Chapter Two

Iron Man was set to fly in three hours. Really, he was ready to go now, but JARVIS had talked Tony into a small nap and something else to eat before he was shipped off to Italy.

While Tony downed two pieces of leftover pizza and curled up in the warm sanction of his bed, Natasha attempted to sneak into the lab. JARVIS, after the events of Stane and the like, kept the doors firmly closed and raised an alarm the second she tried anything else. No one realized JARVIS was capable of his own thoughts and actions; he was the obedient code to Tony’s whims.

They also didn’t realized JARVIS was protective of his creator, and as a result JARVIS had made decisions to keep Tony safe, but even JARVIS was still under a line of agreed-upon command. Tony had made sure no one could harm JARVIS, programmed him to really only listen to Tony and make his own choice about obeying others. Tony had done it with JARVIS’ permission- the idea had been JARVIS’, from the get-go.

And as JARVIS watched Agent Romanov startle from the sudden blare of alarms- perhaps he had overdone it with the klaxon- he mused on this protocol, wondered what would happen if the SHEILD agent had been able to access his flies, his code. _No, that wouldn’t do at all._

❖❖❖

Tony awoke to a klaxon alarm, muffled but too close to ignore. “JARVIS?” He mumbled, confusion and sleep overtaking his taxed out brain.

“ _I apologize, Sir, but Agent Romanov was not obeying my order to keep away from your rooms. She also attempted to break into the lab earlier._ ” JARVIS’ voice was cool, smooth, but it wasn’t cold. Tony had had years to accentuate the tone in JARVIS’ voice.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting at least one of the spies to break into his lab. After O- _Stane_ , however, JARVIS had barely let anyone except Tony into the shop. Even Pepper and Rhodey had to get permission to enter. JARVIS had loosened up some, but anyone without explicit command- or without Tony’s presence- was not allowed.

Still, why Natasha had come to _his_ room was confusing. Enough so that Tony dragged himself out of bed, only JARVIS’ warning making him throw a thick shirt over his bare chest, to hide the arc reactor.

Exhaustion weighed him down, but at his inquiry JARVIS revealed he’d slept for nearly two hours. At least he’d have enough time to get something else to eat before flying for Italy.

“Why are you trying to break into my things, Romanov?” Tony asked, the door opening as he stepped in front of it. Natasha stood at the other of the hall, glaring at the ceiling. Tony suspected JARVIS had implied the same klaxon wail to make her leave the ‘shop, too.

Natasha’s glare whipped down to him and he barely kept the flinch back, a twitch of his fingers hidden behind the door frame. Without saying a word, she turned and stalked away, turning a corner and disappearing from Tony’s view. The alarm had stopped, thankfully, and Tony walked back into his room, the door sliding shut behind him.

“Time ‘til I gotta leave, J?” Tony asked, smothering a yawn as he stepped into the bathroom, firm on his decision to take a shower before leaving.

“ _48 minutes, Sir._ ” JARVIS replied, just loud enough over the wash of the water hitting the shower wall as it began to warm up.

“Just enough time to clean up and eat, then.” Tony said, fighting back another yawn. Two hours wasn’t enough to sleep off the three days he’d been spending working on an updated armour for Natasha and Clint.

Tony could spend hours in his head, working and inventing and making masterpieces out of material, ignoring the need to sleep and eat. But Tony ate and slept. Just not as often as a regular human being, and only when he wasn’t on a work binge. The team needed it, he’d decided.

Sleep was a fickle thing, when dreams of stars and darkness occupied the space underneath his eyelids. Recently the heat and sand of Afghanistan had started coming back, too.

Both space and Afghanistan had been cold. Most people thought the desert hot, but nightfall brought a cold thick enough to freeze bones. Space had been the same, stealing all sources of heat and air. That had been the last thing Tony had noted, was the cold seeping into the suit before he lost consciousness.

Fighting a shiver, Tony stepped into the shower, relaxing just a little at the feel of warmth enveloping him. The water pounded at sore muscles, and Tony sighed, letting himself relax. He was safe here, in the Tower, protected by JARVIS.

❖❖❖

Tony swallowed the dried blueberry he’d popped into his mouth, brow furrowing at the sight before him. He was dressed now, finding something to nibble on before he left. However, upon leaving the kitchen with a bounty of dried blueberries and a packet of granola bars, he’d come across Steve, fast asleep on the couch.

Normally the star-spangled man woke up at the sound of breathing, but Tony had made no effort to be quiet in his trek towards the elevators. Steve rarely slept outside of his room, if he slept at all.

So Tony kept an eye on the team through JARVIS. Sue him.

Deciding to leave the man alone, Tony continued to the elevator, albeit quieter than before. As the doors closed behind him, he turned to see Steve shifting on the couch, head coming up, eyes just visible past the arm rest.

The familiar tell-tale feeling of the altitude change hit Tony and he grimaced slightly, popping another blueberry in his mouth. It wasn’t long before the doors opened, and he stepped out into the hallway. Tony didn’t have to punch in the code for his workshop, he remembered. JARVIS took care of security.

Tipping his head back, Tony dumped the rest of his blueberries into his mouth, tossing the wrapper into a nearby can. He set the bars down on a table he passed by, giving Dum-E an absentminded pat before stepping into the circle of arms that put on and took off the armour.

The familiar whirrs of the arms and the feeling of the suit wrapping around him made Tony relax, just a bit. In the suit he was still surrounded by JARVIS, one of the last he could trust. Pepper and Rhodey were good, and he loved them, but JARVIS had always been there. Even before he’d existed.

The faceplate slammed down and the HUD flickered on, giving him a JARVIS-edited view of the ‘shop.

“Let’s fly.”

❖❖❖

Tony touched down, bent down in his signature position. While it was an intel gathering, there was still the possible presence of guns that Natasha and Clint couldn’t handle.

So it was Tony in the suit, stalking around a building miles away from the nearest city. Typical villains, but they had information, to that made them special in Fury’s eye, at least.

He’d landed a few meters from the located building, JARVIS’ scans running through the walls. No guards, and two people down in the basement. Tony grimaced at the image of the heat-colored bodies.

“Turn it off, J.” He groaned. The image, thankfully, whisked away. Reports scrolled down instead, a steady stream of information from the suit and the scans. Tony clunked into the building, using one arm to shove the metal door open.

It was dark, and the lights on the suit flickered on. It was dusty, weak sunlight filtering through in the later afternoon hours. The space was an open area, blocked only by the weight-bearing columns. The computers were upstairs, then.

Clunking through the building didn’t bother the two people downstairs because Tony wasn’t under fire, so he continued up.

The second floor was cluttered with desks, the desks covered with monitors and keyboards, wires hanging from every angle possible. Chairs were strewn, papers littering the floor. The monitors were dark, none of the lights on or blinking.

Tony made his way to the computers, punching the on button and groaning at the molasses-paced turn on.

❖❖❖

Tony had been sorting through files for a few minutes when JARVIS alerted him to a person entering the building. He had a few minutes before they came upstairs, so Tony didn’t worry and kept click-clacking away at the keyboard.

The faceplate suddenly slammed down and Tony jerked back slightly, startled. JARVIS had full control of the suit, of course, but he rarely took it without warning Tony first.

Tony turned as the bullets began firing, repulsor charging up and firing as he faced the assailants. Well, just the one. They flew back into the far wall and Tony decided they were no longer a threat, returning to the computers.

Up until a shot was fired into the back of the suit, powerful enough to knock him forward. It had been enough to get through the back of the suit, metal digging into his back.

He felt blood dripping down his back, and it wasn’t until he could hear footsteps that he wondered what happened to JARVIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you guys think!


	4. Chapter Three

“Sir?”

Fury turned to look at Coulson, eyebrow raised in question.

“We’ve lost contact with Stark. He was supposed to check in when he reached Italy, but the connection was cut by an outside source. He landed in Italy, but we lost him somewhere near the target.” Coulson reported promptly.

“Outside source?” Fury latched onto the slightly emphasized words Coulson had warned him with, subtle as was the man’s way. “You mean Stark didn’t cut it?”

“No, sir. Even checked with his computer; we weren’t able to track it.”

Fury and Coulson knew about JARVIS, what separated him from other created intelligences. JARVIS was an entity; a being capable of thought. Stark had created life in making JARVIS, and everyone thought he was an A.I., only capable of following his creator’s commands.

But JARVIS wouldn’t ever be just a computer, coded to follow commands to the rest of his servers. Capable of thoughts and feelings, of making his own decisions and executing them at his will. JARVIS was powerful; he had the internet free for use and there was little to nothing he could break into.

_He._ JARVIS was worthy of pronouns, even, not just an _it_ to be dismissed.

If JARVIS couldn’t find Tony, there would be hell to pay. Fury knew how much free reign Tony had given JARVIS after Afghanistan, how the A.I. had taken the security to excruciating detail, all by himself. Tony was JARVIS’ entire world; if Tony wasn’t found soon JARVIS would take his own action.

Fury possibly couldn’t even be damned to attempt to stop him; JARVIS was capable of _rational_ thought. He did everything through calculations, careful percentages for the best decision. JARVIS would be proficient at finding Tony, possibly even faster than SHIELD’s servers. Fury knew JARVIS was already looking for Tony.

A buzzing noise drew his attention and Coulson pulled out his phone. His expression didn’t change, but he handed the phone to Fury.

_Director Fury, a video has been sent to my servers._

JARVIS. Fury narrowed his eye and furrowed his brow, handing the phone back to Coulson before whipping around and striding down the corridor. JARVIS was summoning him to Stark’s Tower, in as few words as possible.

❖❖❖

Natasha stood, surveying the room. Clint was spread out over the couch, leaving no room for anyone else. Steve sat, tense and waiting, hands clasped together while his eyes were narrowed in concentration. He was thinking.

Bruce was in the kitchen, wiping his glasses while he sipped the chamomile tea he’d made not five minutes before. Thor was with him, draining a water bottle while he ate at a bag of chips.

They’d been called here by JARVIS, Stark’s computer. Fury was to arrive in minutes, if not seconds. Natasha wondered what he’d needed to gather them for. Iron Man was on a mission in Italy, so his absence was valid. Stark usually showed up for these, and he didn’t have any meetings on his schedule.

“JARVIS, call Stark.” Natasha ordered.

“ _Mr. Stark is not in the building, Agent._ ” JARVIS’ tone was cool as ever, set to a soothing British tone that grated against Natasha’s nerves. The A.I. made her nervous; how much did it see? How was he controlled; there had to be a way to turn him off. Natasha’s attempt to find JARVIS’ servers had been blocked by the A.I. itself. Natasha knew about Stane and Stark, so she had been expecting it. The same alarm at Stark’s floor had been surprising, though. Stark didn’t care for any manners; he’d told her himself he didn’t care if she- or any of the others in the building- saw him naked.

“ _Director Fury has landed. He will arrive in twenty seconds._ ” JARVIS reported, startling Natasha from her reverie.

The twenty seconds passed in a thick silence, one that had even Natasha tensing. The elevator doors opened to reveal Fury in all his glory, black coat swishing behind him as he strode into the room, taking any attention that wasn’t already diverted to him.

“Stark’s missing.”

❖❖❖

“ _A video was sent to my servers today, at 8:19 PM. The video is approximately two hours long._ ” JARVIS’ voice permeated the room, revealing why Fury had arrived.

Bruce watched quietly as the video started up on the TV, opening to a line of military trucks rolling through the desert. The camera angle zoomed in on the first truck, a soldier standing on top, armed. The angle changed again, this time next to the vehicles as they rolled past a man wearing a keffiyeh and holding onto two goats.

The familiar- to Bruce at least- riff to ‘Back in Black’ had started, and Bruce knew this would show Tony. Somewhere, doing something.

The camera changed to the inside of the truck, shot pointed at a radio playing the song before changing to one of the soldiers in the front seat. He was turned, looking at someone in the back, clearly uncomfortable as he turned to face the front.

Now the shot showed a view of the back seat, focused on a glass of amber liquid. Ice clinked on the glass, and Bruce recognized the scarred hand holding it. It panned up to view the soldier across before finally revealing Tony, dressed in a black suit, sunglasses protecting his eyes.

“ _I feel like you’re driving me to a court martial, this is crazy. What did I do?_ ” On-screen Tony proclaimed, tilting his head at the soldiers. “ _I feel like you’re about to pull over and snuff me. What, you’re not allowed to talk? Hey, Forrest!_ ”

“ _We can talk, sir._ ”

“ _Oh. I see, so it’s personal._ ”

“ _No, you intimidate them._ ”

“ _Good god, you’re a woman._ ” Bruce couldn’t help cracking a small smile at Tony, even the on-screen Tony. Still just as brash, whenever this was.

_Afghanistan,_ Bruce thought. He knew about Tony’s nightmares.

“ _I honestly- I couldn’t’ve called that. I mean, I’d apologize, but isn’t that what we’re going for here? I thought of you as a soldier first._ ” Bruce cast a glance towards Steve, who looked rather pensive at Tony’s words. The Captain and Tony hadn’t gotten along, and clearly this wasn’t putting him in Steve’s good graces.

“ _I’m an airman._ ” The other two soldiers had chuckled at Tony’s words, and Bruce then knew it was a ploy, to calm them down.

Tony had always been efficient at working a room, no matter where it was.

“ _You have excellent bone structure there- I, uh- I’m kind of having a hard time_ not _looking at you now; is that weird?_ ”

Tony had been successful; the one named Forrest had laughed, the other two joining him.

“ _C’mon, it’s okay, laugh!_ ” Bruce knew it. “ _Hey!_ ”

“ _Sir, I-I have a question to ask._ ” Front-seat male soldier tossed one hand up.

“ _Yes, please._ ”

“ _Is it true you went twelve-for-twelve with last year’s Maxim cover models?_ ” On-screen Tony whipped off his glasses.

“ _That is an excellent question. Yes and no; March and I had a scheduling conflict but fortunately the Christmas cover was twins._ ” The camera showed the airman giving into a small smile, before it disappeared. “ _Anything else?_ ” Forrest raised his hand. “ _You’re kidding me with the hand up, right?_ ”

“ _Is it cool if I take a picture with you?_ ”

“ _Yes, it is very cool._ ” Forrest smiled, ripping open a pocket to pull out a small camera. He handed it to the front-seat soldier, leaning in towards Tony.

“ _I don’t want to see this on your MySpace page._ ” Forrest, still smiling, tossed a peace sign up. “ _Please, no gang signs._ ” The hand went down.

“ _No, throw it up. I’m kidding. Yeah, peace, I love peace. I’d be out of a job with peace._ ” Definitely Afghanistan. During Tony’s weapon-making era.

The soldiers fussed with a camera for a minute, then everything started going to hell when a bomb exploded in front of the truck, on the one in front of them.

Tony was clearly shaken by it, while the soldiers immediately went into combat mode, stopping the vehicle and taking cover. Forrest told ‘Jimmy’ to stay with Tony, and then Jimmy also jumped out.

Tony exited the truck, running to take cover behind a group of rocks. Fire and smoke plumed around him, gunshots evident in the air, metal clinking together somewhere.

Tony fiddled with his phone for all of two seconds before a bomb slammed down near him.

Almost dramatically, the camera zoomed in on the _Stark Industries_ logo, Tony’s eyes widening as he saw it himself, struggling to get up while it beeped ominously.

To no avail, it exploded, throwing Tony away from the rocks. Blood pooled onto the white shirt Tony had on, and Bruce watched anxiously as Tony ripped it open, revealing the bulletproof vest he’d been wearing.

Worryingly, blood had begun to pool on that too, and Tony’s face was one of reservation before the screen went to black.


	5. Chapter Four

Silence stretched across the room. JARVIS felt a familiar emotion curling through his hardware- anger. He had searched the video for any harmful viruses, but he hadn’t seen the content.

It was Tony- _Sir, Creator_ \- in Afghanistan. In a desert where JARVIS couldn’t reach him, couldn’t protect him. The _grief_ he’d felt during those three months, only vaguely shared with Miss Potts and Lt. Colonel Rhodes and Director Fury and Agent Coulson, when they came around- _Pepper and Rhodey(James) and Nick and Phil_ \- ached somewhere, like an old injury. JARVIS _hated_ Afghanistan.

Under his watchful view of the room, Agents Barton and Romanoff silently watched the proceedings of the video- Tony underneath the bag, words tossed around that JARVIS didn’t bother to translate- while Captain Rogers seemingly grew angry. Dr. Banner seemed rather calm, if a little shaken.

Somewhere, deep in a building where JARVIS’ circuits rested peacefully, sparks flew as the A.I. in question silently snarled at the screen and directed remote servers and cameras to a small town in Afghanistan where a gravesite rested.

❖❖❖

Clint jumped, just a little, as the room seemed to hum with violence. Steve was angry, sure, but he wasn’t giving off the ‘kill-kill’ vibes. Natasha looked stoic, as always- there were always tells, though, she was confused- and Fury seemed- somehow- more angry than before.

The hum intensified for a moment, before dissipating very suddenly, leaving Clint just a little off balance with the change.

Clint threw a wary glance towards the ceiling and edged a little closer to Natasha.

By now the video had progressed. A burlap sack had been whipped off of Stark’s head, revealing the genius, bloodied with cuts. Stark himself seemed confused, on the screen, just for a moment as he looked around. The screen changed from Stark to a man with a camera, and back to Stark. A realization passed over his face and the view backed out to reveal a man reading threats to the camera- Stark’s Afghanistan trip, and the ransom video. Fury had seemed especially concerned about that mission, not that anyone could get an answer why.

A bold, metallic title claimed- movie-style- the film IRON MAN.

Clint snorted and sat back, cocking an eyebrow. “Why are we-“ Natasha’s hand landed directly on his chest, forcing a breath of air out. _Silence_ , it said. Clint stayed quiet.

On screen, now, were magazines, proclaiming Stark’s brilliance over the years. As they faded to an event- that the lower screen said it was Las Vegas, 36 hours earlier.

 ❖❖❖

Natasha let her warning glance at Clint wear off as James Rhodes began talking on-screen. “ _As liaison to Stark Industries, I’ve had the unique privilege of serving with a real patriot._ ” Steve made an indignant noise, over to her right, and Natasha threw a glance towards him.

Steve seemed angry, tense and clutching a pillow to an inch of its life. Stark generally seemed irritating to Steve, though this seemed to be pushing him over the line.

Rhodes kept talking. “ _He is my friend, and he is my great mentor. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present this year’s Apogee Award to Mr. Tony Stark!_ ” Clapping, and an onset of music while the people awaited Stark’s arrival. “ _Tony?_ ” Rhodes asked. He looked out towards the crowd and the screen showed Stane, shaking his head. Stark was a no-show; how surprising.

Stane walked up to the stage and took the award from Rhodes, stepping in front of the pedestal. “ _Thank you, Colonel. Ah, this is beautiful, thank you. This is wonderful. Well, I’m not Tony Stark,_ ” Natasha kept down her snicker, while Clint huffed in slight amusement. “ _but, if I were Tony, I would tell you how honored I feel,_ ” at this, Natasha did snort. Stark wouldn’t feel honored a day in his life, even if Jesus Christ himself came to visit. “ _and what a joy it is to receive this very prestigious award. Tony, you know, he, uh, the best thing about Tony, is also the worst thing. He’s always working._ ”

Stark, in fact, was not working in the next frame. He was gambling, surrounded by adoring fans while he bet his money away.

The film progressed, showing the 36 hours before Stark was taken out in Afghanistan. Natasha settled in to glare at the screen, as Stark showed himself to be about as bad as Natasha thought him to be- reckless, disrespectful, and generally chaotic. Steve looked pensive and rather ready to destroy the screen.

Things got a little interesting afterwards, when a surgery to remove the shrapnel in Stark commenced. One of the men placed something round on Stark’s chest- much like the reactor in Iron Man’s chest, Natasha couldn’t help but notice. Was something else going on?

Stark turned over, and the man with him hummed, “ _I wouldn’t do that, if I were you._ ”

Stark, apparently, was attached to a car battery.

❖❖❖

Bruce cocked his head. A car battery? The shrapnel hadn’t gone that deep, did it? He didn’t know that; he’d have to ask JARVIS for Tony’s medical records, after this.

“ _What the hell did you do to me?_ ” On-screen Tony asked, voice soft and raspy.

The man- Ho Yinsen; Tony had told Bruce about him- spoke. “ _What I did?_ ” He seemed a little amused. “ _What I did is to save your life._ ” He nodded at the thing- an early arc reactor?- in Tony’s chest.

“ _I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there’s a lot left, and it’s headed into your atrial septum. Here, want to see?_ ” Yinsen held up a little bottle, with little metallic pieces banging together as he shook it.

“ _I have a souviner._ ” Yinsen sing-songed, a just a bit. “ _Take a look._ ” He tossed Tony the bottle, turning away while Tony held it up, looking at the tiny pieces of metal that were inside.

“ _I’ve seen many wounds like that in my village. We call them the walking dead, because it takes about a week for them to reach the vital organs._ ”

“ _What is this?_ ” Tony asked. He’d clearly calmed down.

“ _That-_ ” Yinsen looked at Tony. “ _is an electromagnet, hooked up to a car battery, and it’s keeping the shrapnel from entering your heart._ ”


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys; I feel like this is a bit short. I've been really busy but I wanted to give you guys something to read, so here this is. I don't know if I'll have anything for next week, but thank you all for being so patient.  
> 

Tony gasped, pain radiating through him upon his sudden awakening. After a moment, he managed to pinpoint the source of the pain: his back.

It came back to him at this realization, the whole getting-knocked-out scene. The suit was gone, that much was apparent. It was dark around, so pitch black Tony could barely make his hand out from the rest of the inky blackness unless it was centimeters from his face.

Tony wasn’t cold, nor was he overly hot, and he couldn’t exactly judge the level of oxygen he had. It felt like stone underneath him, rough underneath his hands.

He was still dressed in the black undersuit, thankfully, so if did get colder he wouldn’t freeze as quickly. Tony could feel the familiar prickle of fear crawling up his spine, but he ignored it for the time being. Figure out how to get out first, and then how to get home.

Tony stared at his lap for a second, then leaned forward, placing a wary hand on the ground. Stone, still, or some kind of rock. It was cool under his hand, rough enough that he had to be careful lest he cut his hand while crawling around.

He shuffled forward a little, using his hands to make his way, counting the feet as he did. Five, six, seven feet already; the room was bigger than he imagined. Feeling a tad bit ridiculous, but not about to get up, Tony mapped out the rest of the room.

By the time he was finished, he’d counted up to twenty minutes and the room was eleven by thirteen, stone and filled with nothing. Now he was running his hands along the walls, trying to gauge how high they were. One of the walls held some sort of slot, but he wasn’t quite sure what lay behind it and he was certainly not going to test it out without some light.

Picking a corner, Tony sat down and stared in the general direction of the slot, on the far wall and about three feet from the corner. Nothing happened.

Nothing would happen, apparently, for several more hours.

❖❖❖

In a room not far from Tony, lay a half-built machine, parts and nails strewn across. Shadows guarded the walls, while a man worked hurriedly to complete it. Said machine, however, was far out of his two-year knowledge of bio- and mechanical engineering.

A door creaked open, and inside stepped a short man, dressed in a white lab coat. By all means, his appearance should not have been a cause of concern for anyone. All the same, however, the shadows stood to attention and an ominous “Hail HYDRA!” was snapped simultaneously.

The man, having paused in his work, froze and repeated the same phrase, nearly shaking in his own thin white coat, hands fumbling with the screws he held.

“I see the device has not been finished.” A thick German accent rolled off the man’s tongue, though no one knew if that was his real accent or something else acquired by the unassuming man.

“N-no sir.” The first man stuttered, quickly setting down the screws to avoid puncturing himself.

“Mm.” The second hummed, turning away. “No matter. Stark will be here to finish it tomorrow. Clean up and go home.” The short man began walking towards the exit.

“Y-yes sir!” Rather astonished, the first man quickly packed up and left, keeping to himself on the bus ride home. Thankfully, no one but the thick-furred fat orange cat was around to hear his anxious murmurings.

In the room, however, the shadows slowly left until only one remained, something on his left glinting in the low light.

❖❖❖

In New York, the Tower was in a state of disarray.

The video had progressed past the demands of the Afghani terrorist, and past Tony’s refusal.

In fact, they’d gotten so far Tony was already home. It was his return that had caused the pandemonium; JARVIS had finally lost his temper and let one of the weapons Tony had installed destroy the room below, which had called the good Captain’s attention, though he shouldn’t have been able to hear the noise.

Now Fury was attempting to call attention away from JARVIS, but at this point the A.I. was inclined to let them know the secret. He could protect himself against Agent Romanov and Barton; Captain Rogers wasn’t invincible, and Dr. Banner knew some of JARVIS’ sentience.

Director Fury wouldn’t dream of doing anything to JARVIS. The relationship between Nicholas Fury and Anthony Stark went far deeper than anyone could imagine. Only Agent Coulson knew of it as well, and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. was hard-pressed to follow every order from above.

So with that thought reserved, JARVIS blacked out the lights in the room, even going so far as to dim the windows. It had the desired effect; the room went silent. Slowly, to not as to hurt anyone’s eyes, he brought up the lights.

Fury was looking at the ceiling, one eyebrow raised in question, while the others were eyeing the room suspiciously. Agent Romanov was looking at Fury.

“ _I’ll take over from here, Director Fury._ ” A silent nod, and JARVIS continued to speak. “ _Avengers, I am JARVIS._ ” Confusion, but silence. “ _I believe you all think I am a mere computer, bid to do Mr. Stark’s will._ ” JARVIS bristled at the thought; Sir had given him so much more than just coding and a name. “ _As clichés go, I am not._ ”

“You’re _sentient?_ ” Agent Barton’s voice was higher pitched than normal. Agent Romanov looked like she’d done a lemon shot with vodka, and Captain Rogers looked confused, and Dr. Banner looked slightly resigned.

“ _I am._ ” JARVIS answered. “ _Please direct your attentions to the video once more; I wish to find Sir as quickly as possible._ ” While surveillance had given JARVIS insight to human behavior, he was not quite expecting the reaction from the Avengers, which was to protest loudly.

“Wait! This needs to be talked about!”

“What the hell?”

“Hold on- what?”

The only ones silent were Dr. Banner and Director Fury, though JARVIS merely dropped the lights again.

“ _I would like to discuss this with Sir present, and I believe watching the video will give insight to his location._ ” It was a hope on JARVIS’ part, given that he knew it portrayed the telling of Sir’s sacrifice as Iron Man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t draw any more attention to his sentience until Sir was found, though after seeing Mr. Stane again, JARVIS wasn’t counting on it.

❖❖❖

Bruce watched his teammates’ faces change with every passing frame. Tony was far more than he ever gave up to people, and Natasha, Clint, nor Steve had tried to dig any deeper. Tony was hard to handle, Bruce would admit, but after the first initial rounds of jokes and attempts to drive others away, Tony could even be sweet sometimes.

A sharp gasp rang through the air, startling everyone, including Fury. They whipped around to see Pepper walking into the room, gripping onto her stack of papers while she stared at the screen with a horrified look on her face.

She wasn’t without reason, given that Tony was being riddled with bullet holes as he blew up tanks and missiles in Afghanistan, Bruce mused.


	7. Chapter Six

Natasha arched an eyebrow. What the hell was Stark doing in Afghanistan? She knew he’d worn the suit to free himself- and attempted to free Ho Yinsen, she also found out- from the Afghani terrorists, but after that he’d hired someone to power the suits and be a part of the Avengers. She hadn’t heard anything of Iron Man in Afghanistan, much less _Stark_.

A glance at Fury revealed nothing but a furrowed brow that seemed to be permanently set in that position. Clint seemed as confused as her, and another look said that Steve and Bruce did as well.

Pepper’s sharp gasp grabbed her attention, but Natasha only gave the CEO a quick glance before she focused on the screen again. Stark had exited Afghanistan and was evading Airforce- as well as a call from Colonel Rhodes. Steve made a quiet, angry noise but he’d ultimately kept silent.

As Stark returned to New York, Natasha’s thoughts swung to the A.I. living in the ceiling. _Sentient._ It had called itself _sentient_ , and Natasha couldn’t have been more unnerved. She’d agreed to return to watch the film, movie, whatever it was, but already she was planning how to force her way into Stark’s lab and how to shut down the A.I.

❖❖❖

Fury narrowed his eyes at the screen. Tony hadn’t told him everything after that little stunt in Afghanistan, then, he mused.

If only SHIELD could’ve seen him now- Fury had a reputation as an apathetic bastard. In truth, he cared for everyone on his ship, but none more so than Tony.

Howard had been an asshole, governed only by Peggy Carter, but Carter had been the Director of SHIELD before him; she hadn’t had a lot of time to boss Howard around. Fury had gotten his own backbone from dealing with the man.

But he’d gone and started caring for the little four year old with big brown eyes and mechanical burns all over his tiny fingers, and it had escalated into Fury becoming far more fatherly than he’d honestly intended to be to Tony. He could only be glad the man still confided in him instead of hiding it, like he tried to do during his teen years at college. Neither Fury nor Tony wanted a repeat performance of when Fury taught Tony what would happen if he didn’t start telling the truth.

But now, the Director focused on the film-movie thing playing in front of him, hoping to glean some information from this in order to find Tony.

God, what he wouldn’t do to protect Tony.

❖❖❖

 Steve glowered at the screen. At the moment, Stark was showing himself to be even worse of a man than Steve had originally believed. Flying through Afghanistan, and then risking a pilot’s life? Utterly unacceptable in Steve’s eyes.

Stark was a needed thorn in Steve’s side; he was volatile, reckless, and above all, _Stark didn’t care._ He didn’t care about the Avengers, or any of SHIELD’s operatives, or even the man flying his damn metal suit. Everyone praised the great Tony Stark for supporting the Avengers, but Steve would’ve dropped him if possible.

Out of all the team, Steve knew he and Stark argued far more than the others, but Steve could hardly help it; Stark was an infuriating man. How he kept contact with people like Virginia Potts and Colonel Rhodes, Steve didn’t know.

On screen, a man named Obadiah Stane talked to the Afghani terrorists that had held Stark captive for months. Steve’s inner fury didn’t dissipate in the slightest.

Stark’s file told it all; Stane’s betrayal, how he tried to kill Stark to gain complete access to the company, and how Stark got out of the cave by building a metal suit and flying away. What no one else knew- which was becoming blatantly apparent with this… film, Steve supposed- was that Stark hadn’t hired anyone to power his suit. Yet, Steve was quite sure, because the man within the suit was not Stark.

Iron Man was caring and compassionate, if flighty about following Steve’s plan, but he listened well. Stark would never take Steve’s orders in a million years, and Steve was set firmly in his knowledge that Stark was not in the suit.

But as the film progressed from Stane talking to the terrorists to him taking the arc reactor- which, Steve hadn’t known was still in Stark’s chest at this point. He figured the man had had it removed upon return to the US, but that was also a moot point by now. Stark didn’t have the arc reactor; it lay in the suit to power it and the repulsors.

This, however, was something Steve hadn’t been prepared for. Stark had clearly put Ms. Potts in danger, but Stane having a suit of his own and Stark getting back into the armour wasn’t what he was prepared for. At this point, Steve thought he’d hired someone, but he eventually lost that track as the action began and he criticized the moves between the two metal suits.

While Stark lay limp on the roof, Stane having fell into the generator and after the resulting explosion, Steve could only glare at the screen, contempt for Stark still strong. Agent Coulson gave Stark his cover story, and for once- Steve was sure heaven rejoiced at this- the man _obeyed_ , and almost read the cards word-for-word. He paused for a moment, nearly giving Steve a heart palpitation as he began with, “ _The truth is_ ,”. After a moment of silence he finally said, “ _Iron Man is a bodyguard._ ”

Stark had a meeting with Fury, but that was what confused Steve, just a little. Fury didn’t quite look like himself, whilst talking to Stark, and his words, “I am Iron Man” were rather out of context, but it ended and Steve relaxed, just slightly.

But it hadn’t ended yet, no. Instead, an accented voice spoke.

“ _Avengers,_ ” it- he, the voice seemed male- said. “ _how is it that someone can hide a secret so carefully from you? How are you so blind?_ ”

On screen, a dark room was shown, almost dark enough that Steve couldn’t see. It was broken by a small, circular, bluish-white light, attached to a –human- body. As the minutes passed, Steve realized- with a small jolt- that it was _Stark_.

“ _I have your Iron Man, Avengers. Do you know who he is now?_ ”

The image suddenly flipped to a bright room so quickly that Steve had to blink and let his eyes adjust. It was an old camera, the film wavy and slightly distorted. It looked like it was pointed at a ceiling, but Steve wasn’t sure until the camera tilted down, revealing a young, messy-haired boy with bright brown eyes and a wide smile, dressed in a small Captain America suit.

“ _Are you ready, Young Sir?_ ” The voice had changed. It was British, this time, and Steve had a sudden recollection of Peggy.

“ _Yeah Jarvis!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda rushed through the movie; more because I wanted to get to the thick of the plot instead of drawing it out.  
> Also, introducing Steve's POV! Did I do him okay? I've kinda avoided him purely because I don't quite know how to write him, but I was at a loss for whose POV I should've written next and he seemed like the only option.  
> I feel bad for leaving Thor out; I believe I'll introduce him at some point. Not entirely sure it's gonna be very soon, though, so don't get your hopes up.
> 
> Also, I wanted to say thank you for all the comments and kudos you guys have given me so far; it makes me so happy when I see the numbers going up. See y'all next Sunday!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I really did try to make it longer, but it's still about my normal 1000-word chapter. Thankfully, tomorrow's the last day of work since January, I'll have more time to devote towards this.

Everyone stared in utter shock at the screen. Even JARVIS found himself at a bit of a loss, as much as he recognized Sir, clearly younger. And also, with his namesake.

JARVIS had known about Edwin Jarvis; Tony had even shown him his notes and belongings, and he’d been introduced to Ana Jarvis.

JARVIS hadn’t seen these tapes in a _very_ long time; it was only during Tony’s initial update that he’d seen them in the first place. Sir had destroyed them in a drunken rage, in a time before Miss Potts, while Lt. Rhodes had been deployed. DUM-E had sprayed the wreckage with the fire extinguisher and Sir had laughed before starting to cry.

It was Sir’s young voice that pulled JARVIS’ processers back to the present, watching, downloading the procedure of the video, even though he knew how it ended.

❖❖❖

The boy couldn’t have been but about five years old, Natasha mused. She would have liked to lie to herself and claimed to not know who the boy was, but the clues were all there: the aforementioned Jarvis, the fact that the video was shown _after_ a film of Stark in Afghanistan, and there were similarities between the boy and Stark.

Natasha rarely ever lied to herself.

The video progressed as the camera holder- Edwin Jarvis, Natasha so helpfully reminded herself- followed Stark down the hallway, where he paused for a moment.

“ _Mamma,_ ” Stark called. “ _Jarvis mi ha aiutato con il mio costume!_ ” Stark spoke Italian, learned from his mother.

“ _Che è grande, bambino. Vai mostrare papà mentre la mamma si veste._ ” A female voice called back, accent lilting in its tone. Stark turned around as Jarvis reached him, little face turned down.

“ _Do you think Daddy would want to see my costume?_ ” Stark asked, one hand reaching upwards. Natasha was a little shocked to find a large bandage wrapped around it, clearly meant for a wound of some kind. It almost seemed too big for Stark’s hand. Another, older, scarred, calloused hand came into view, wrapping around Stark’s. He- Stark- disappeared from view for a moment as the camera turned.

“ _I should hope so, Young Sir._ ” The camera shook a little as they began walking, taking winding turns down to a basement floor. It was different from the house; metal and cool instead of warm colors of red and brown. Clinical.

Jarvis knocked on a door before opening it to reveal a metal room. Natasha was almost ashamed to say it took her a moment to realize it as a workshop; Howard Stark’s workshop.

Metal parts lay haphazardly around the room, strung across the floor and table. Tools appeared in the same capacity; it was much different from Stark’s workshop, just below. There it was organized and almost homey, to the tech-lover. Here was an apathetic environment, surrounded by cold metal and silence.

As Jarvis entered the room with the camera, more of the room was revealed, and nothing about it changed. Up until Howard Stark entered the picture- quite literally- and whipped around to face Jarvis. Steve’s quiet gasp gave away who exactly was in the room in the first place.

“ _What the hell is it?_ ” Howard shouted. In the bleakness of the film, Natasha could see red eyes and under-eye bags. A whiskey bottle, empty, was on its side on the table nearest to Howard.

“ _Young Anthony would like you to see his costume, Sir._ ”

“ _I’m Captain America, Daddy!_ ” With as much sense of self-preservation as his older self, Stark bounced into the room. The bright, harsh red, white and blue of his clothing seemed about as much color as the room could take.

❖❖❖

Clint eyed the screen warily. Howard Stark hadn’t had a reputation of being a nice man, as far as Clint knew. Not with Coulson, or Fury, at least.

The man was clearly drunk, swaying where he stood. If not for that, then the bottle of jack off to the side gave it away. Clint grimaced; his old man hadn’t been much better. Clearly the Stark ‘family love’ was all an act, if this was how Howard had spent his days looking for Steve when not out in the ocean.

Stark, oddly bright for once, was only too happy to approach his father. In the mindless way of a young child, he chattered on about how excited he was to be _Captain America_ , which Clint honestly couldn’t help snorting at. Stark hated Steve, and vice versa, though at this age he clearly loved him.

Stark edged closer to Howard and Clint could almost feel it coming.

The loud _SLAP_ and accompaniment of dead silence greeted his early wince, and he forced himself to look at the screen.

Howard had backhanded Stark so hard he’d dropped a few feet away from where he’d been before. Jarvis reacted accordingly, with a sharp, “ _Sir!_ ”, but it was Stark’s reaction that caught Clint’s attention.

He didn’t cry, he didn’t say a word and hardly made a sound as he stood up. His head was bowed and he took a step in the direction of the door- Jarvis had set the camera down on something and was kneeling in front of Stark.

“ _Shut the fuck up about Steve, Anthony._ ” Howard said Stark’s name with an air of contempt and disgust. “ _I don’t know why the hell you bother; haven’t I already told you you’ll never amount to him?_ ” Clint’s mouth dropped open.

The last thing he’d been expecting was for Howard to compare _Stark_ with _Steve_.

“ _Yes sir._ ” Stark’s voice was nearly a whisper, and the five-year-old did a near-perfect about-face and walked out of the room without another word. Jarvis followed along behind him, forgetting the camera, though Clint could see the red blooming on Stark’s face as he walked away.

The camera kept rolling for a moment, as Howard dropped down into his chair and ran a hand through his hair, indistinct murmurings the only sound as he stared at something on the table in front of him.

The screen went to black.

“ _Do you see now,_ Captain?” The voice was back again. Clint found it rather creepy. “ _Once upon a time Iron Man_ worshipped _you._ ” It cackled. “ _I wonder if he would do it today!_ ” The screen showed Stark again, glowing faintly in the corner of the room. “ _How much are you willing to get your Avenger back_ now _, since he’s_ Tony Stark?”

Clint’s own immediate answer was to say that they’d find him; but he knew how they all felt about Stark, Natasha and Steve especially. Bruce was less hostile, and possibly even within friendship territory with Stark, while Natasha would have no problem with Stark dying on the spot and he and Steve fought like cats and dogs.

“ _Hurry, Avengers. Iron Man won’t last forever- or do you care?_ ”

❖❖❖

Tony wasn’t ready for the door to slam open, to become a wall of light that burned his retinas. Footsteps clamped across the concrete floor and an arm grabbed his elbow, hauling him along. The pain in his back became more prominent with the harsh movements, and Tony was still getting used to the bright lights, nearly clinical in their harsh glow.

It dimmed, just a little, as he was tossed into another room. Blinking heavily, Tony finally got his eyesight back, blearily peering at the equipment in the room.

The tell-tale metal, table and locking doors finally gave Tony an insight to their master plan- have Stark build them a weapon.

_Well they can shove their weapon up their- what the hell?_

A glint of light caught Tony’s attention, and he was made aware of the _third_ person in the room. His arm was made almost entirely of metal, and Tony couldn’t see the rest of him, considering he stood in the shadows the entire time.

Coughing, Tony stood up slowly, turning to face the man who dragged him.

“You will build this for us.” His voice was thick with a German accent, and Tony barely understood the words for a second. He, however, wasn’t given a chance to reply. “He will watch you.” And with that, the man turned and exited the door.

Perplexed, Tony turned to the other guy and sighed. “Just you and me, then, R2-D2.”

❖❖❖

“ _Director Fury,_ ” JARVIS’ voice called. “ _I believe I can retrace where the videos were sent from, but all the videos will have to be shown before I can._ ”

“Alright Jarvis. Keep ‘em rolling.” Fury’s voice was dark, if emotionless.

He’d known Howard was an alcoholic, and he’d had his suspicions about the abuse, but the blatant showing made them so much harder to stomach, especially when Fury knew about that costume. Tony had been five, and so excited to wear it for Halloween- not that they went out.

Maria had an event, one that she dragged Howard out to, and after the incident in Howard’s ‘shop Tony hadn’t wanted to go trick-or-treating. Instead, Director Carter had gone over and Fury believed she and Martenelli had watched movies with him that night.

Fury wasn’t proud of the thoughts rolling around his head, but he rarely ever was.


	9. Chapter Eight

Well, it was clear to Tony.

HYDRA was made up of idiots. Power-hungry and weapon backed idiots, but idiots nonetheless.

Tony sighed in irritation and turned the wrench one last time. He was greasy, hungry, and sleep was dragging heavy on his mind, but he kept working, if only to keep Frozen behind him happy. R2-D2 was the most silent man Tony had ever known, and every time his arm moved Tony winced for him.

Tony still wasn’t sure how much time had passed- several hours since he’d been brought here, but the exact number had been lost upon seeing the wreck of machinery they wanted him to fix.

Speaking of which, if Terminator didn’t stop moving his arm without letting Tony fix it, he was going to have to take some drastic measure against it. _No_ piece of working metal should ever make that noise, at least not in Tony’s presence.

With a rough sigh Tony pushed back from the machine- he wanted to call it a death ray, considering that wasn’t too far off from its purpose- and stood, tossing the wrench back onto the tray of tools he’d been provided with and tossed a glance at R2. Still hadn’t moved, just like the past- well, Tony lost track when he was working. Usually he had JARVIS to keep the time.

Unsure of how R2 would take this, Tony walked to the door and banged on it. He was determined to get some food- and some insurance of sleep- before he went back to work. Tony overworked himself at _home_ , sure, but there he had JARVIS and an unlimited supply of snack foods that could fill him up just as much as a meal. Here, he had a silent metal-armed man for company and a surprisingly well-lit, dirty room to build a weapon of possible mass destruction, going by their history of these things.

Tony’s banging had finally resulted in reaction, and he was promised a meal of some sort within a few moments. Certainly not five star service, but far better than Tony had been expecting.

❖❖❖

Steve’s mounting horror was presented upon his face, undisguised and completely bare for all to see. At the moment, all was JARVIS. The A.I. felt a distinctive pleasure coursing through him, one he hadn’t felt since the death of Obediah Stane.

The Captain’s face was a clear window into is inner thoughts, and JARVIS felt little sympathy for him- or for the understanding empathy on Agent Barton’s. Even Agent Romanoff was fairly easy to read in the light of the videos, and Director Fury look as impassive as ever, even if JARVIS did notice the sharp glint in the man’s eyes.

JARVIS turned his own attention back to the videos he’d only seen once before.

A young Tony Stark stood trembling in the corner of a room, bruises easy to see on his fair skin. Dark, long hair hid his eyes, but what was really surprising was the dark, angry tone coming from a two-eyed Nicholas Fury.

JARVIS had the notes from that day, the report of how Fury had handled the situation, and even how well the young Stark had responded, but he knew the behind scenes of the act: Tony had been kidnapped, and the previous Director- Director Carter- had barely talked Howard into paying the ransom for the boy’s return. It was the first time he’d returned home harmed, from the previous four kidnappings.

Tony had only been five at the time, and he’d clung to both Director Carter and Agent Fury instead of his father for the first few hours, proving some theories with the single wary glance he’d cast his father, and the sharp tremble that went through him when his mother claimed him from Director Carter’s side.

Maria Stark neé Carbonell had tried her best to raise Tony. Everyone who spent more than ten minutes with them could tell that; JARVIS knew there was hardly any record of Tony even remotely speaking English in Maria’s presence. Italian had been their secret, something close to share between them. Maria had taught Tony the finer arts of Italian culture, the food and language and music.

Howard was too much for Maria, however, and while Maria tried to raise Tony, she couldn’t handle Howard’s drunken rages and barely deflected them from Tony’s sensitive ears. The former Jarvis had suspected Maria had fallen into depression, but she’d perked up just enough to teach Tony a few more things about Italy. It was their only connection, and soon that wasn’t enough for Tony’s rapidly developing mind.

Howard; Howard Stark hadn’t tried to connect with his son very often. His first attempt had been shortly after Tony’s birth, a rather cold May 29th. Tony had hiccupped, blinked, and screamed. Howard had only gripped Maria’s hand in blatant shock, watching the tiny creature he’d helped to create get carried away.

When the baby had returned, tender pink skin carefully wrapped in a blue blanket and handed to an exhausted Maria, pale blue eyes had blinked at his parents and he’d cooed softly, tiny fingers yet to gain their dexterity curling around the finger Maria carefully provided.

Howard held him for the first time after he’d eaten, watching his tiny eyelids shift as he slept for the first time, cradling the body close to his chest, a new feeling developing in his chest. He had very few words, crowd-charisma failing him. When Tony had woken two hours later, Howard was still enthralled by the baby.

It was wonderful, for the first two weeks, until Howard received new word of a possible location on Steve. He kissed Maria and Tony goodbye, and was gone for six months, only to return to work on the company. Maria hardly saw him until Tony turned one, and by the time Howard returned to his little family, Tony had learned the basics of ‘stranger-danger’ and Howard was summarily ignored until Maria had given him the okay.

That was the first crack in their tender relationship.

The last had been a back hand swiping across a tender cheek, dark brown eyes staring up in betrayal.

Tony was five.

❖❖❖

Clint could barely hold back the ball of hatred in his chest.

Howard Stark, apparently, was just as bad as Harold Barton.

And while Clint didn’t feel very differently about Stark- _Tony, maybe try thinking of the guy like a team mate and not a random civilian_ \- he could understand a few things about the guy. Clint knew he wasn’t perfect; hell, Clint had months of therapy on his record after S.H.I.E.L.D. had found out a few things about his way of thinking. Coulson had practically beat some ideas out of him.

The videos still weren’t much of an explanation as to why Tony had hidden his identity as Iron Man, of course. Clint had a few reasons- less of a target than being _Tony Stark_ already was, kept Iron Man rather anonymous and difficult to target- but Clint had an inkling that they were the _wrong_ reasons.

He began to notice a theme in the videos.

It was easy to tell who had the camera now- either Maria or Jarvis; usually one of Maria’s painted nails made it into the edge of the camera, while Jarvis had a tendency to take the camera from Maria or sit down with Tony.

Tony seemed to have at least one parent in the form of Maria Stark. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, even if he did recognize the language- Italian. Nat probably knew.

Clint was rather surprised to see that Tony had learned to cook some dishes, and as he was prone to, he wondered if Tony could still make them. He and Bruce would get along in the kitchen. Maybe it was time to embrace Tony Stark into the Avengers; maybe the guy wasn’t as much of a jerk as everyone seemed to assume.

Clint risked a glance over to Steve, unsurprised to see the confliction on his face. On one hand. Tony was a necessary evil. On the other, the clear evidence of an abusive Howard was clearly messing with Steve’s perception of the man.

The video of Tony and Maria cooking and laughing about something shouted in Italian- “ _Mamma, mamma! L'aglio!_ ”- ended and Clint barely had time to blink before the screen flipped to Howard’s disapproving face.

The man was glaring down at someone- presumably Tony- but Steve made a sharp noise of surprise when a woman suddenly entered the video, a small Tony trembling in her arms. More bruises wrapped around his body, but the most noticeable were the ones around his neck.

The woman was shouting at Howard.

“ _How dare you, Howard! You have a life most people only dream of, and this is what you go and do?_ ”

“ _Peg-_ ”

“ _Don’t you ‘Peggy’ me, Stark! You can see your son again when Maria and Jarvis return._ ”

The woman left the room, and Howard growled something under his breath, roughly sitting back down in a chair and angrily scratching over some notes. It went on for another few seconds before the camera changed again, this time focused on the woman and Tony.

“ _Aunt Peggy?_ ”

“ _Yes, little duck?_ ” The nickname made Tony smile at the woman- Peggy.

“ _Are we gonna go to your house?_ ”

“ _Yes, Tony, you get to stay with Angie; you can work on your Italian with her and surprise your Mamma._ ”

“ _When are Mamma and Jarvis coming back?_ ” Clint couldn’t help but notice the lack of Howard in Tony’s mentions.

“ _In a few days, little duck. Have you eaten yet?_ ”

“ _No, Aunt Peggy._ ” A few seconds of silence passed, where the screen darkened some and Tony and Peggy were quiet. “ _My throat hurts._ ”

“ _We’ll get some medicine on it, little duck, okay?_ ” Tony’s head went up and down and the little boy rested his head on her torso, leaning into the woman’s arms, unresisting when they came up around him. The video ended at that point.

“ _Recognize someone,_ Captain?” The voice was back, dark and low and amused. “ _How much does it hurt to see your_ sweetheart _with the man you hate most?_ ” Clint tossed a glance at Steve, who was holding back tears.

“ _You’ll be pleased to find that your Iron Man is unharmed- so far._ ” A low chuckle that Clint could only describe as an inky _blackness_. How it made sense, he didn’t know, but that was his best description so far.

“ _Hurry, Avengers; Iron Man may not remember any of you by the time you come for him._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys want me to add summaries to the chapters?
> 
> I'm still on hiatus, so if I don't post next week please don't be surprised.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna come to a head in the next chapter; I promise it's a plot twist, but hopefully nothing triggering.

Natasha was surprised to find that in most of the videos, Stark spoke Italian. Of course, she’d known his mother was Italian, but nothing on his file mentioned that Stark had spoken it since he was little- with a fluency that came with one speaking a language since they began to _learn_ to speak.

Maria Stark’s light tenor was a pleasant thing, laughing lightly as she taught Stark the finer arts of Italian cooking or piano, or even Italian lessons themselves. Stark seemed to speak English for the butler’s benefit, even if the man could speak a passable tongue.

The video switched from another happy memory in the kitchen to one of Stark alone in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The camera was being held, so either Maria or Jarvis was there- Natasha suspected Jarvis; Maria had a tendency of letting one of her fingers slip into frame.

Footsteps- fast, heavy, with purpose; not Maria, Natasha guessed- sounded and Stark turned to look at the door, lifting the wooden spoon from the pot, holding it still so nothing would drip outside of the aluminum. The camera swung over to the doorway, just as Howard Stark breezed through.

He was looking down at something, but some movement caught his eye and his head snapped up. Natasha was almost fascinated by the lack of time it took for the man’s face to go from frustrated to completely enraged. She was fairly sure it had been less than two seconds, for all that she knew muscles took longer to respond and move accordingly.

He stomped over and- with the camera following- yanked the younger down from his careful perch on the stool, away from the stove. The spoon clattered to the floor, ignored.

“ _What the **hell** do you think you were doing?_ ” Howard snarled, very nearly dropping Tony a full four feet to the ceramic tiles. “ _A Stark doesn’t **cook** , he works. A Stark doesn’t stand in the kitchen like a woman._” Howard’s voice was dark and dangerous and the man looked seconds away from backhanding the boy.

“ _Y-yes Pa-_ ” Stark’s stutter was interrupted by Maria entering the kitchen, face as dark and foreboding as Howard’s voice. Behind her was Director Carter, face stony and eyes dark.

“ _I’d like you to repeat that, Howard._ ” Carter snapped, voice crisp and sharp in the resulting silence.

“ _Peg-_ ”

“ _Don’t ever call me Peggy again, Howard._ ”

Maria crouched down and beckoned Tony to her, lifting the boy when he reached her. They talked quietly for a moment, Maria turning as Carter stepped around her to argue with Howard.

“ _Steve sure as hell wouldn’t condone this, so I don’t know why you thought I would._ ” Carter was growling, eyes narrowed and ready to wage war.

“ _Steve wouldn’t-_ ”

“ _Don’t even start with what Steve wouldn’t, Howard. You don’t know a damn thing that the man would do, including driving a plane into the Arctic Ocean!_ ” Howard tried to speak, but Carter just held a hand up. “ _Maria and Tony are staying with Angie and I while you get your life together. They can come back when you quit drowning in the scotch._ ”

And with that, Carter swept Stark and Maria out the door, directing a glare Howard’s way. The camera stayed on for a moment, as Howard blinked after the three, and the door swung open again to reveal Stark darting through it, heading directly for the camera. The camera was set down and Natasha heard Stark’s soft, “ _Bye, Jarvis_ ” as they hugged, and an equally soft, “ _be good_ ” from the older man.

Howard’s face seemed rather haunted as Stark left without even throwing a glance his way. When the door shut again, Howard left the room before the camera clicked off.

The next two videos consisted of Angie Martinelli and Maria Stark playfully arguing in Italian and teaching Stark things in turns, and Martinelli whispered a few swear words to the boy, promising that he not repeat them.

The third skipped a few years; where the boy was no more than seven before, he was at least ten by this next video. It was pointed towards a stage, with several well-dressed people waiting and murmuring to themselves. It took a moment for Natasha to realize it was a Stark Expo.

As per usual, Howard came and spoke and showed off some new invention, but what caught Natasha’s attention was a young Stark stepping onto the stage and presenting a rather advanced computer- one that was old hat by now, but for 1980 it was almost five years into the future before it would be created.

Stark was well spoken, and after some silent encouragement from the crowd, took the stage in a very soft mimicry of his current charisma and grandeur. The young boy paraded around the stage proudly, and about mid-speech Howard stalked out towards him and took his shoulder, forcing the boy to wave goodbye to the crowd and nearly dragged the boy away from disappointed murmurs.

The camera began traveling, and swung down enough to reveal Carter and Maria making their way to the back, large smiles on their faces and obvious praise ready for Stark once they reached him.

And as a reoccurring theme with the videos, the trio happened upon Howard snarling at Stark as if he was an inept puppy. His words were too low for the camera, but if the sudden set of Carter’s shoulders and the nearly indiscernible curve to Maria’s were anything to go by, they certainly weren’t good.

They moved closer and Natasha picked up some of the words-

“ _How dare you embarrass me like that, insolent boy! A Stark doesn’t make a fool of himself- and a Stark doesn’t cry, stop that._ ” Howard’s tone held no patience. “ _Repeat after me, what is a Stark made of? Starks are made of iron._ ” This last sentence was said in hesitating union with Stark.

“ _Howard Anthony Walter Stark what in the name of seven hells do you think you are saying to my godson?_ ”

This resulted in a sharp breath from Steve that tore Natasha’s attention away from the screen. The Captain looked shell shocked, eyes locked on the screen like it was life or death. Natasha wasn’t surprised to see his eyes following Carter; clearly all of this was a shock for the man. Without saying anything, she turned back to the screen.

“ _Vieni qui, bambino, tell me about your computer and we’ll go get food with your zia, mi amore._ ” Maria’s voice was closer to the camera and easily heard over Carter and Howard as they shared harsh words with one another.

Natasha hadn’t initially liked Howard Stark, but her opinions of him were very, very low after these.

❖❖❖

A rough swipe of his hand swept the sweat from his forehead, and Tony panted harshly as he returned his hand to the piece of metal he was bending. He may have an arc reactor, but he worked with weapons. Metal was his element.

He was faintly aware of R2- _Soldier_ , they’d called him- in the way he was aware of JARVIS, but where his faithful A.I. would usually respond with a quip that made Tony proud, R2 kept silent and rarely moved, if at all.

Tony had no way to tell the time but by his own needs and internal clock; he did make odd mental notes from time to time. Often times, he’d get hungry around 2 or 3 in the morning, if he was on a binge like this. He’d been fed a total of three times, and returned to the dark room to rest only once. It had been at least two days, though he wasn’t certain to how long he’d be here in the first place. JARVIS, for all his vastness, had limited physical resources. His A.I. may have located him, but unless he could receive help Tony was rather screwed for the time being.

With a creaking groan, the metal finally bent under his hands, curling roughly as Tony nearly bent it in half. Now, time to beat it into a perfect curve.

A sharp creak interrupted Tony’s hunt for the hammer, and he turned a baleful glare on R2. That was it for Tony; he couldn’t take the infuriating creaking any longer. Much more and he’d go for the arm with gutso, permission or not.

Turning to the door, he started banging on it until the same doctor from before came, one rather thick eyebrow raised in expectancy.

“Let me fix up R2 before I go crazy.” Tony demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. They hadn’t messed with the arc reactor and Tony hadn’t drawn any attention to it, not wanting to bring it into the light as a torture option.

Before Caterpillar replied, the arm creaked again and Tony whirled around to glare at the glinting metal; Dum-E rarely had any creaks but at least his loyal little bot knew to bring Tony a grease rag before it became noticeable. Tony liked music playing but metal creaking when he wasn’t working on it was one of his biggest pet peeves.

Turning back around to Caterpillar, he threw an arm towards R2, silently showing him the problem. The arm creaked again and Tony’s hand twitched around the wrench he was holding, brown eyes settling into a glare.

“Fine, we will bring what is necessary for maintenance.” Caterpillar agreed, before turning and slamming the door shut. Satisfied with his answer, Tony went back to the weird death-ray they had him fixing, eyeing a few mismatched wires and tucking them in their correct spots. The thing didn’t have the back power for something like mass destruction, and there was no catch or hold for anything to be placed within, so while Tony _was_ fixing it, he was deciding on the repercussions. So far they hadn’t hurt him- and there were plenty of ways without damaging his hands- so they clearly needed _something_ with him.

What it was, well. Tony didn’t dwell on it much.

❖❖❖

JARVIS silently began the eighth day of video. Sir had been gone for over a week, and Dum-E and You were asking for him. It was beginning to drag on his servos, the stress of Tony being gone, but he had hopes today; the time mark on the disc indicated the finish time somewhere around noon, so long as a set number of breaks were taken.

Director Fury had gone back to the base, but had returned at odd times, eyes furrowing when he remembered a certain video. The rest of the Avenger’s reactions to the videos were rather cathartic for JARVIS, the shock in the inset of Agent Romanoff’s eyebrows, the clench of Dr. Banner’s hand, the rough sighs from the Captain. So far, Dr. Banner seemed the most mournful of Tony’s childhood, taking the time each night to ask JARVIS more questions.

Agent Romanoff and Barton were silent on their opinions, though JARVIS thought the latter more empathetic of Tony. Agent Romanoff seemed to not forgive him for some odd thing Tony had done outside of JARVIS’ watch, but the A.I. cared not.

Captain Rogers had asked for videos of Director Carter, but JARVIS had informed him Tony had locked those- along with these videos, which JARVIS _knew_ had not been taken from _his_ servos- and had refused to budge on the matter. He answered the Captain’s questions about Tony and Director Carter’s relationship, but further interaction was little.

Thor had returned to Asgard on the third day, reasoning that perhaps Heimdall could find the Man of Iron. So far there had been no word, but Tony had created a signal to call Thor back to Earth when needed. JARVIS had begun charging the signal that morning, at midnight, prepared to receive Tony’s location.

It was seven in the morning, and Agent Barton was yawning whilst remaining attentive to the screen.

 _Only a few hours to go, Dum-E. Sir will be home soon._ JARVIS told the bot, receiving an ‘affirmative’ beep from the eldest of Tony’s A.I. creations, before he trundled off to direct You and Butterfingers into sorting the MK VII into the show case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick as a dog and I've gotten nothing school-related done... but I've got a chapter up so I feel semi-accomplished about something.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has a plot twist you guys probably weren't expecting, but I don't think there's anything triggering (I will warn when the rape/non-con makes an appearance) but I hope you enjoy!

Tony struggled as he found himself strapped down, panicking upon waking. This time, JARVIS’ voice wasn’t there to sooth his panic with the weather and stock reports, which meant this _wasn’t_ a dream.

Forcing his brain to calm down and assess his surroundings, Tony soon noticed that the ray he’d spent the last –week?- building was pointed directly at him. Oh, so _this_ was what he got for all his hard work, to be turned into a lab rat. Wonderful.

There was no talk as someone walked over to the controls and turned it on. The ray began to hum, before a glow started up at Tony’s end, growing brighter with every nanosecond. It nearly blinded Tony by the time it reached the _shooting_ part, so Tony’s eyes were closed when the yelling started.

By the time Tony noticed it, however, there was something hard- metal- wrapped around his neck and the ray had struck his body, enveloping his senses into a chill so cold Tony knew what Steve must’ve felt like under the ice.

The pain started, and that’s when Tony passed out.

❖❖❖

Clint glanced at the time; it was only ten. JARVIS had said the videos would be finished around noon, and Clint was starting to get restless with only two hours to go. He was already mentally gearing himself up for a mission; both he and Natasha had assembled a small arsenal.

Steve looked rather shell shocked and Bruce was clearly frazzled, but Clint knew they both would be coming to retrieve Tony.

“ _Look alive, Avengers. The videos are almost over. Maybe these next ones will help you decide to save your team mate._ ”

The screen flipped from a video of Tony in an interview with one of his bots to one of Tony grinning widely at the camera. Clint was shocked; Tony was still mostly a kid, lanky and awkward, but he was pale and gaunt, arms entirely too skinny for Clint’s tastes. Clint was almost willing to bet his bow that Tony’s ribs would be showing underneath the thin t-shirt he wore.

“ _I got accepted!_ ” On-screen Tony was saying, talking animatedly to Maria and Jarvis. Both were encouraging his enthusiasm, though Clint saw Maria shoot a few concerned glances at Tony when he wasn’t looking.

Howard Stark came stomping through after a few more moments, muttering to himself as he swept by and nearly knocked the camera from Jarvis’ hands. The screen steadied after a moment. Tony had caught Howard’s attention, looking all for the world like a little puppy begging for praise.

“ _I got accepted into MIT, dad!_ ” Tony said, lifting the paper to Howard’s line of sight. “ _I can even bring DUM-E with me!_ ”

“ _That piece of trash?_ ” Howard replied. Clint winced, face screwing up a little as the hope in Tony’s eyes died right then and there. “ _Nothing like that should tarnish MIT’s property._ ”

“ _DUM-E isn’t trash!_ ” Tony snapped back, the most forceful Clint had ever heard his voice. Tony Stark didn’t shout, scream, or holler. He spoke. Softly, loudly, noiselessly, confidently,  Tony spoke with his entire body. He didn’t make unnecessary noise where it wasn’t needed; Clint hadn’t even heard him shout in the Iron Man suit.

“ _You watch your tone when you speak to me, boy._ ” Howard snarled.

“ _With all due respect, fuck you._ ” Tony hesitated for only a moment, before shooting back. Howard froze, and whipped around, taking the collar of Tony’s shirt in his hand and driving the skinny not-quite-teen-Clint-didn’t-really-know into the wall.

“ _Watch your damn mouth, Anthony._ ” Howard spat Tony’s name like it was poison. “ _Don’t start getting cocky with me just because you think you’re important._ ”

“ _Yeah, ‘cause no one’s more important than Captain fucking America, right dad?_ ” Tony growled back, shoving Howard away from him.

“ _Don’t you say a damn word about Steve, Tony. He died saving-_ ”

“ _That’s right, he fucking died, dad. He’s dead and you’re never going to get him back._ ” Tony interrupted, looking like he’d been wanting to say that his entire life. Steve gasped in a harsh breath, and Clint glanced at him. “ _He’s long dead and gone and you can’t accept that._ ”

Howard drew himself up, glaring daggers into Tony. Without a word, he dropped the papers he’d been holding and stormed off, back the way he came. Tony threw a confused glance at Jarvis and followed, hesitant.

Jarvis and Maria followed, and the camera tracked Howard to a lab, where a familiar bot sat, sorting tools with a patient claw. It dropped some outside of the box in a near-humorous way, though Clint took little amusement with the next few frames.

Howard took a wrench and slammed it into the bot’s side, denting the metal and making it beep in a rather startled way, before Howard took the wrench and began to beat on the bot. Metal clinging rang harshly and the bot damn near whined and tried to roll away.

Tony leapt forward with a cry of outrage. He yanked the arm holding the wrench away from the bot, shouting, “ _Don’t hurt DUM-E, you can’t hurt him!_ ”

Howard whipped his arm back and punched Tony in the face. “ _It’s a fucking robot. Get over it._ ”

Howard went back to destroying DUM-E, before Tony recovered. The bot was shutting down, then, mechanisms hanging loosely as Howard slammed, tugged, and tore apart the bot.

“ _No one is more important than Steve, Tony. Now get this shit picked up and get the hell out of my house._ ” Howard snarled, voice low and dangerous. Tony was off screen, but as Howard pushed past, the camera dropped to see Tony’s tear-stained, bruised face, eyes filled with anger and hurt. Maria was holding him to her chest tightly, arms wrapped around him in a motherly fashion.

“ _Come, Master Anthony. Let’s look at your forehead._ ” Jarvis spoke, handing the camera to Maria and taking Tony, gently leading him away while Maria turned off the camera. Clint heard Tony’s last faint words- “ _What about DUM-E?_ ”

❖❖❖

Peggy Carter stood opposite of the Soldier’s gun, staring the metal-armed weapon down with a fierce glare. Even across dimensions she recognized Steve’s friend, for all that he appeared like a drowned rat. To everyone else’s surprise, Bucky stood over Tony- a five year old Tony, with the matching bruise he’d gotten from Howard destroying his computer chip the day before; at least in Peggy’s timeline- in a protective stance, slowly tugging the small body towards his chest and keeping his gun trained on Peggy.

“Stand down.” Peggy snapped. She hadn’t taken bullshit from S.H.I.E.L.D. and she certainly wasn’t about to start now, with HYDRA.

Bucky hesitated only a moment before sheathing his gun, though he kept the metal arm wrapped around Tony’s unconscious body.

“You,” Peggy turned to a scientist. “start figuring out how the hell I got here and how I’m getting home. You,” she switched her gaze to another, taking a little guilty pleasure in the way they flinched. “start getting me up to date. And tell me why my godson is _here_ of all places?”

Most of the scientists scrambled off, with only a few remaining. One seemed to the ‘leader’, getting into Peggy’s face with an air of discord. He was trying too hard for nonchalance, but overstepped it by a mile and straight into pissed-off territory.

“Who are you?” The man demanded, thick eyebrows furrowed. Peggy wanted to punch him.

“Peggy Carter, director of HYDRA and former director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Peggy replied, immediately. “Now if you would be so kind as to give me my godson and bring me up to date on this timeline, that would be much appreciated.” She gave a sweet, disarming smile, one that quietly promised death in the rounded point of her canines. The man wisely nodded.

Bucky had since been dealt with, with a couple of scientists marching him out of the room while Tony quietly lay pliant, chest rising and falling in a slow, deep pattern. Peggy was mildly surprised by the rather large, glowing device in Tony’s chest cavity, but it didn’t seem to affect him any as she picked him up and tucked him into the curve of her arm, resting his head in the crook of her neck. The little boy’s soft breathing was a familiar comfort, tiny puffs of air against her collarbone.

Following the appointed leader, Peggy found herself in a board room. Carefully sitting down, so to not jostle Tony. Once comfortable, she looked at the leader expectantly.

❖❖❖

Steve clenched his fists, anger boiling in his stomach. How could Howard do this to anyone, let alone his _son_ ‽ Utterly outraged, Steve barely muffled his protests while the videos kept rolling. He could deal with this later, when they brought Stark home.

The video had changed from the fight to another of video of Tony, but this one was somber. Rain was heavily pouring down and Tony was just in the corner of the frame, while the camera was pointed at- Steve realized with a jolt- a casket.

Underneath the little tent where Tony and Jarvis stood, sat a table with pictures of Maria and Howard, with a wide array of flowers adorning the table and caskets. In front of them, stood Obadiah Stane.

“ _They will be dearly missed,_ ” Stane was saying, fake grief lying thick in his voice. “ _Howard was a wonderful father, and inventor, and Maria was an amazing mother. I mourn with the rest of the world, the loss of a great man._ ”

The video progressed, watching as the caskets were lowered into the earth and Tony stood watching them, along with a large crowd. After the last of the dirt had been filled in, Tony started to walk away, Jarvis chasing after him.

“ _Slow down, ducky. I’m getting too old for all this running._ ” Steve nearly jumped when Peggy started speaking. It became apparent that she was holding the camera, not Jarvis.

“ _You’re not old, Aunt Peggy._ ” Tony replied, stopping to look at her. “ _I just wanna say goodbye to Jarvis, one last time._ ”

“ _Alright little duck, I’ll be over here with Obadiah._ ” Peggy stepped forward, one of her arms appearing on the film as she hugged Tony, before releasing him and stepping back. Tony nodded, and then he was off, nearly invisible in the pouring rain.

Peggy turned and walked back over to the tent, coming to a stop next to Stane.

“ _A tragedy, truly._ ” Stane commented to Peggy. “ _At least Tony’ll be ready to take over the company._ ”

“ _Tony is coming home with me. He needs time to grieve._ ” Peggy’s tone had a strong backing of finality in it.

“ _He’ll be fine after a few hours. The company needs him._ ” Stane said, trying to cajole Peggy.

“ _The company can screw itself._ ” Peggy snapped back. “ _I’m taking Tony with me, end of story. Expect him back after a month._ ”

With that, Peggy turned and walked away, intercepted by Tony after a few yards.

“ _Ready to go home, ducky?_ ”

“ _Yeah. Is Angie making the pasta again?_ ”

“ _If you ask nicely, I’m sure she will._ ” Tony grinned at Peggy.

The screen went black; the video was over.

“ _Well now, Avengers. You know most of Stark’s story, are you still willing to accept him as a team mate?_ ”

White letters appeared on the screen; a location and time. Stark was in Russia.

Clint and Natasha immediately stood, even as JARVIS started to say something about contacting Fury and Coulson.

Steve himself stood and ran to his floor, quickly pulling on the uniform and grabbing his shield.

It was time to save Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are this week so pray for me as I sit up at 4 am reading fanfic.


	12. Questions

A bit of an update.

 

School ends in a couple weeks, and after that I will most likely be back to regularly scheduled updating.

Pertaining to the last chapter, the videos have ended, and though I've got a couple scenes planned out I wanna know what you guys want to see.

And kind of same as last time, some questions:

 

1\. Does anyone seem OOC; I know a lot of you guys have assured me that no one is out of character or anything, but I still like to make sure.

2\. Any POV in particular you'd like to see (or see again)?

3\. Send me some scene ideas; after I upload chapter eleven I'll start working your requests in.

 

Thank you guys so, so much for your patience, kudos and comments. You have no idea how much those emails get make me squeal; after I get back on a regular schedule I think I'll try and do something special for all of you.

I hope you enjoy this new chapter and you have a wonderful Monday, an awesome week, and to anyone having their final with me, I hope you pass with flying colors.


	13. 5/8 Update

I apologize, but with finals having just finished and preparation for Mother's Day, I haven't had time to write more of this chapter. I'm giving you guys a little teaser, but there will be no official update this week. Thank you guys for your continuing patience with me and my spaztic updates.

 

►◄►◄►◄

JARVIS eagerly locked onto Tony’s location with a vigor he hadn’t felt since he’d first awoken to Tony’s voice, coaxing him into responding and learning. Upon finding the gray, bleak building, JARVIS had sent the location and images to Agent Coulson, diverting most of his attention into finding a way to enter the building’s system. With no physical help of entering the building, it took longer than JARVIS would’ve liked, though he was breeching a rather sad firewall when Agent Coulson entered the building.

After a few moments of the agent debriefing the team, they boarded the readied Quinjet. While Agent Coulson and Barton flew the jet, Agent Romanov checked her weapons, hiding an impressive array of knives and guns on her person. Doctor Banner was breathing deeply- the Hulk might be needed, but Tony might also need medical help. The good Captain was sitting quietly, holding his shield on his lap.

JARVIS had made contact with Thor, and the god had promised to appear at Tony’s location. He was bringing his mother, Frigga, as Heimdall hadn’t been able to find Tony, but it appeared as if JARVIS’ creator wasn’t well. That made the A.I. rather anxious, but he concentrated on the Avengers and the building in Russia.

JARVIS mindfully kept his eye on them, but directed a large portion of his attentions to hacking the building. He wasn’t in the least surprised to find the system belonged to HYDRA. It was a matter of minutes to break through to the cameras. JARVIS began to run facial recognition, scanning through the screens. After a moment he pulled them up on the Quinjet, calling Agent Coulson’s attention to them.

While the Avengers redirected their plan, JARVIS continued to look for Tony.

He was rather surprised when he found Director Carter.


	14. Summer Updates

So, as I've ultimately decided, I'm going to try and update each Sunday, but for the next few weeks I'm going to try and write a few chapters and figure out my  _exact_ storyline, because it's kind of all over the place right now. That also may or may not result in a complete scrap and remake of this, though if I do I'll give you guys a heads-up before I delete it. Thanks again for sticking with my sporadic updating schedule, and at this point I literally have no excuse, so I'm not gonna try and make a commitment that I can't fulfill.

 

Thank you guys again for being so patient, I know what it's like to be frustrated with stuff like this. Have a nice day, night, whatever time it is for you. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided I'm going to update every Sunday.
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://royallyons79.tumblr.com/tagged/update) for update news and such, or if you guys have any questions!


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